


On Track

by fireflysglow_archivist



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-23
Updated: 2003-06-23
Packaged: 2019-04-29 12:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14473122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflysglow_archivist/pseuds/fireflysglow_archivist
Summary: Simon gets his focus back, and Mal decides what he wants.





	On Track

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Firefly’s Glow](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Firefly%27s_Glow), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Firefly's Glow collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/fireflysglow/profile).

 

On Track

## On Track

Sequel to Not Paying Attention, Concentration, Distractible Series: Focus  
Warnings: SEX! (like you're shocked...) Archive: Take and Enjoy! I just want to know about it. Disclaimers: As much as I might wish otherwise, everyone in this story belongs to a certain Mr. Whedon. He's very kind, and lets me play occasionally. 

* * *

Beta-ed by the incomparable sffan and kellygirl. Special thanks to JR, I, and Ll for that last talk through. 

* * *

Piping hot translations:  
_bu mingan hundan_ : insensitive bastard _tianna_ : oh, God  
_qingshaui hou chi chunren_ : impetuous monkey eating fool. 

* * *

For yet another dusty, brown planet, Minerva was actually kind of pretty, Simon decided. Instead of the standard set of ramshackle buildings, the main street was actually organized, and some store fronts were painted bright colors. He was supervising the unloading of the now-labeled cryo-cylinders from the mule. 

He paused for a moment, wiping the sweat off his forehead. The air here was thick with humidity, and made his face sticky. He pulled up the corner of his t-shirt to wipe his face yet again. Jayne had said there was a storm coming. Simon really had no reference, most of the core planets being weather controlled, but the deep grey clouds filling the sky, making the colorful storefronts pop, made him give the theory some credence. 

Simon felt a familiar tingle on his neck, and looked across to where Mal was standing. Staring. Again. Simon smiled a slightly ironic greeting, and felt a nebulous hope that it looked more genuine from a distance. The past week had been agonizing. Serenity was too small a ship for the two of them to avoid each other completely, and each time, their meetings had become more and more awkward. 

He was getting tired of being stared at. Lately, it seemed every time he turned around, there were bright blue eyes attached to his movements, crawling over his skin. Almost as tactile as the damp air today. Simon sighed, and got back to work. 

As the last of the cargo was unloaded, Simon felt a twinge in his sinuses, and looked up to see a sheet of rain advancing down the street. Stunned, he watched as heavy drops of rain kicked up dust whorls, only to knock them down immediately. He could only watch for a minute, because suddenly the line was upon him, soaking him to the skin. Tilting his face up, he let the shower wash the grime away from his face. Granted, it was lukewarm water, but still felt good after the oppressive humidity of earlier. 

Jayne let out a hearty yelp, almost dancing in his joy. "Told ya'!" Letting Simon precede him to the mule, "Feels good to get this wet, don't it?" as they both climbed on board. 

Simon smiled back, the expression hurting his face. "Yes. Yes, it does." Vaguely annoyed that he wasn't enjoying the experience more, he turned and watched as the other crew members approached the mule. 

"Least we got the work done first." Wash grumbled, climbing into the driver's seat, Zoe a scant step behind. "Wish Mal'd hurry up. I hate wearing wet clothes." 

"Hmm?" Zoe glanced at her husband, her hair plastered down her back. 

"What? I'm always specific. _Naked_ beaches." The pilot shrugged his sodden shoulders. "No clothes, is all I'm saying." 

The captain strode back to the mule, seemingly unconcerned by the water. Simon turned back to Wash's rant, just to avoid staring at the wet shirt clinging to Mal's chest. 

"I mean, don't clothes just get in the way?" 

"Wash!" 

"Yes, Mal?" Blinking away the rain, Wash looked a bit startled. 

"Serenity?" Mal settled himself in the seat beside Simon. 

"On our way." As the engine revved, and the mule lurched forward, Mal braced himself against Simon ever so briefly. Simon gasped at the flash of heat, hoping that the engine and rain noises covered up the quiet sound. 

They drove back in companionable, soaked silence, and Simon's mind was finally focused on one thing, and one thing only. He needed to confront Mal, and he was pretty sure he had figured out the way. The crew came upon Serenity rather quickly. In unison, they all held their breath as the mule entered the cargo bay. Simon almost laughed out loud, giddy with relief, when the group sighed at the same time. They were home. 

Zoe yanked Wash off the mule. "You need us for anything, sir? `Cause I'm thinking I would like to get cleaned up." 

"Cleaned up?" Wash returned with a grin. "Can I help?" 

"Of course." She slapped him on the butt as they disappeared into the ship's bowels. 

"Looks like I'll be short a pilot and first officer for a bit." Mal slid out of his seat, hips brushing against Simon's. "Myself, I'm getting something hot to drink first." 

Jayne jumped off. "Gonna stay and watch the rain some, want to keep me company, doc?" 

" Umm, no...," Simon`s eyes followed Mal`s ascent to the galley, before he turned back to Jayne. "No, thank you. I think I'm going to get some tea, too." 

Mal was standing at the galley, blowing gently over a steaming cup. His shirt clung wetly to his torso, and his hair was a flattened, stringy mass, but it still made Simon's breath catch. _do it, simon. get it over with._

"We need to talk." 

Mal glanced up in mild surprise, "So, talk." 

"In private, please." 

"Ain't no one here to see us." The captain looked around, a slight smirk on his face. Simon sighed. 

"I think you would prefer to have this discussion where we won't be interrupted." 

Mal's eyes heated quickly, and raked across Simon's body. Just as suddenly, the heat was shuttered behind the emotionless faade. It was kind of amazing, considering how open Mal's face was, the amount of control the man had over his feelings. 

"Just talk." Simon stated again slowly, as much reminding his rebelling body as Mal. Grunting in the affirmative, Mal placed his cup down, and led the way to his bunk. 

"So." Mal stood in the center of the room, arms crossed, eyes hard. "Talk." 

Simon, mirroring the stance, felt that he could have cut a piece of tension from the air, and serve it for their next meal. It would probably have more taste than the protein. "Actually, I need to ask you some questions." 

The moment stretched. Mal just glared, Simon held firm. He needed to know. 

Flintily, Mal broke the impasse "Get on with it." 

Exasperated, Simon shot out, "You are a bit of a _bu mingan hundan_ , aren't you?" 

"What?" 

"I mean, you keep yourself distant from everyone. Do you even have a reason anymore, or is it just habit?" 

Mal frowned. "I like things simple." 

"Oh, I'm pretty sure things are complicated already." Simon took a deep breath. "All it takes is the answer to a simple question. 

"What do _you_ want?" 

"You gettin' out of my bunk would be a good start," Mal growled. 

"Are you sure?" Simon pressed deeper. He had to know. "If I leave now, I'm never coming back. You're not the only one on this ship who has control over their emotions." He saw the flicker of doubt cross Mal's eyes, and stepped back into the room. "Are you positive? You want to go through life never knowing what could have been?" 

Mal swallowed, Simon's eyes focused on his throat briefly, before returning to the face. "Do you want to know what I want?" he whispered. Mal nodded. Simon took a deep breath before continuing. 

"I want River to be well, I want to be able to walk down a street and not be scared for my life. I want for there to be a chance for either of those things to happen." Simon paused, swallowing the acrid bitterness. "Failing that, I just want to be safe. But most of all, right now, I want to know if you want me." 

"I want to know," Simon continued, as he stepped even closer, "that what happened last week was not a game, not an anomaly. I want to hear you tell me why it happened." 

Mal's eyes had finally softened, belying the tension in his shoulders. He glanced away, noticing Simon staring at him. "Simon...," he began, and stopped, and took a deep breath, and turned to face the wall. 

Simon, noticing the hitch in Mal's voice, calmed down. "Tell me, Malcolm," he whispered. 

"I'm...," he swallowed audibly. "I didn't expect ... last week to happen." 

"I doubt either of us did." 

"Yeah, but you're not in charge of this boat." Mal turned slightly, a slight tinge of bitterness in his eyes. Simon had a flash of insight. He knew what he needed to say. 

"I think you take too much upon yourself. I think you need to let go, to trust other people. 

"Do you think you can trust me, Mal? I'll never hurt you, not on purpose, and I'm strong enough for you to lean on, whenever you need it." Mal closed his eyes, and Simon closed the last bit of space between them. "Mal?" he whispered. 

Simon could see the struggle in Mal's clenched jaw, the raised tendons along his neck. He brought his hand up to the other man's face. Simon almost gasped as his touched caused the sudden release. Mal swallowed the barely audible response. "Yeah." 

His thumb caught on Mal's lower lip, and he slowly dragged it across, savoring the soft texture. "God, Mal. Please don't play with me. I can`t bear it." 

Mal grabbed at Simon's hand, a wild, almost desperate move. "I want you, Simon. I trust you. God help us both." 

Groaning, Simon pulled Mal down for a deep, passionate kiss. This time, there was no hurry, no panicked fear of losing contact. There was only sensation. Taste, texture, smell, the darkness of closed eyes, even the sound of flesh pressing together wetly. He used his tongue to open Mal's lips, flicking the tip over the sensitive skin, tasting salt and a hint of rain. 

And then he was inside, the soft wetness was intoxicating. He felt hard muscle and soft skin as he began digging under Mal's shirt. His fingers traced patterns along the ribs, even as he devoured the mouth he had been dreaming of. 

When Simon finally let the kiss go, Mal dropped his head to his shoulders, breathing heavily. How far are you willing to trust me?" Simon asked, even as his fingers began to undo Mal's pants. Mal looked up, the question in his eyes apparent. Simon brushed their lips together again. "I really want to fuck you, Mal," he breathed against the soft mouth. 

Mal's eyes widened in lust. Simon took advantage of his distraction to distraction to quickly unbutton Mal's shirt. His fingers found hard nipples, and teased them into points, even as he pulled another kiss from Mal. 

As Simon intensified the kiss, mapping the contours of Mal's mouth with his tongue, he pushed Mal's shirt off his shoulders. Mouths still devouring each other, Mal unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and peeled it the rest of the way off. Breaking the kiss for a few moments, Simon yanked his own t-shirt off. 

Mal reached for him and pulled Simon tight against him. Their motions became wild and abandoned, hands grabbing and pulling at the rest of their clothes as they moved back towards the nearest flat surface; Mal's desk. 

"Turn around," Simon growled in Mal's ear. A shudder ran through Mal and he did as he was told without a word. Simon ran his hands up and down Mal's back and nipped sharply at his neck before pushing him face down on the desk. Simon draped his body across Mal's and slid his hands along the other man's arms, positioning them so that they spread out, grasping the edges of the desk . He rubbed his hard cock against Mal's ass and growled again, "Stay just like this." 

Face pressed against the blotter, Mal took a deep, shuddering breath as another wave of pleasure poured through him at the commanding tone in Simon's voice. His back felt cold and abandoned when Simon left to go get the lube from the drawer in the table next to the bed. 

"I'm going to tell you everything I want, Mal. You're going to listen, because I'm going to make you feel so good." Simon said, as he placed the lube on the desk next to Mal's head. Simon slid his hands up and down Mal's back again, fingers digging into the strong muscles. 

He cupped Mal's ass, squeezing the cheeks firmly, and then coaxed Mal's legs further apart and rubbed his cock against the hot cleft. Simon felt the opening twitching against the head of his cock and moaned quietly. He reached around, and gripped Mal's cock, brushing his thumb across the opening, spreading the pre-come. Mal gasped and groaned loudly as Simon continued to dip his thumb into the slit, pressing lightly, milking it for more and more wetness to ease the slide of his fingers as coats Mal's cock. 

Simon pressed against Mal, holding him around the waist, the other man's cock in his hand, his own pressed deeply into the cleft before him. Mal moaned as Simon began to jack him. Keeping a steady tempo, he licked the salty skin in front of him, finding the scent and taste intoxicating. The skin of Mal's penis was velvet under his hand. He kept moving, bringing Mal as close to the edge as he dared. 

"I just want you, I want you under me, over me, hot with passion and desire. I want to taste your skin, your sweat, your very essence. I want to feel you tremble, I want to make you come." 

Simon stopped moving, and held his lover`s cock in his hand. "What do you want, Malcolm?" He whispered hotly into Mal's ear. "Do you want to come now, or do you want to come with me in you? I can just imagine how good that would feel. My cock in your ass, my hand on your cock, stroking you in time. I want to feel you pulsing around me..." 

"Fuck!" Mal cursed, and liquid heat coursed over Simon's hand. Smiling ruefully, some of the erotic spell he had woven becoming frayed, Simon leaned his head on Mal's shoulder blade and chuckled softly against the skin. 

"Well, I guess that's a moot point now." 

"God, no, Simon." Mal twisted around. "I still want you." He was flushed a deep copper, pupils dilated with desire. "I want you to fuck me." 

Simon couldn't think. The heat pooled in his groin as he yanked Mal in for a hard kiss. Biting the older man's lips, he nudged him back until he was back in his former position, spread across the desk. 

Simon spread the come on his fingers and slowly slid them down into the cleft of Mal's ass. He teased the opening lightly and nipped sharply at Mal's back. "I'm going to fuck you with my fingers for a while, Mal. No lube, just your come on my hand. Would you like that?" 

It wasn't really an answer, but Simon decided that the strangled noise, which stuck in Mal's throat with a click, was close enough. Simon pushed a finger into Mal and started sliding it into the tight, hot passage. Moving it around, he felt the muscles clenching against it, finally loosening just enough to add two more fingers, and then began sliding them in and out while twisting and scissoring them, pressing deeper and deeper into Mal with each re-entry. Mal moaned, and used his grip on the edge of the desk to push himself back onto the hand in his ass. 

"You like the way that feels?" Mal nodded, helpless in the throes of passion. Simon curved his fingers, just so, and found what he was looking for. Mal gasped, eyes opening in shock, body shuddering in pleasure. "Feels good, doesn't it? I can do it again," and Simon did, this time, making both of their cocks twitch almost in unison. 

" _Tianna_ , Mal, I can't wait," Simon could barely breathe. "I've got to have you." Simon grabbed the lube, and slicked himself as quickly as he dared. He was trembling with anticipation, but he knew he had to go slowly. Mal may not have been a virgin, but it had certainly been a long time since he had bottomed. 

Simon slowly pushed all the way in, their bodies flush against each other, his hands leveraging his weight on the table. Breathing heavily, he caught Mal's eyes. "You okay, there?" His voice was ragged with need, and Mal's nod was all the impetus he needed to drive into the hot hole waiting for him. 

Mal gasped sharply. He pressed back and hissed, "Yessssssss." 

Moaning, Simon griped Mal's hips firmly and started moving. He pulled out almost all the way and then slammed in hard and fast. Mal cried out and arched into the thrust. Simon began riding Mal hard and fast, hammering into him, hips slapping against his ass. Their moans and gasps entwined and echoed in the small room, combining with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh. 

Simon twisted his hips, changing his angle and began pounding against Mal's prostate. Mal's fingers scrabbled at the edge of the desk and he moaned long and low in the back of his throat. Simon slid a hand up Mal's back to his neck in an unnecessary sign of dominance that made Mal quiver with pleasure, and sped his thrusts even more. 

Mal, overwhelmed by the sensations pouring through him, was helpless to do anything but arch and moan as Simon thrust against him, one last time as he came hard, deep inside the heat of Mal's body. 

"Oh God, Mal," Simon whispered. 

He collapsed against Mal's sweat soaked back and heaved for air. He stroked the smooth skin gently and placed a soft kiss against Mal's spine. They both hissed as Simon pulled out of Mal. Mal turned around and clutched at Simon, pulling him into a long, wet kiss. 

Exhausted, Simon yanked the two of them off the desk, and barely made it to the bed, where they both collapsed in a puddle of limbs. 

"You know something?" Mal curled up against Simon's chest. Simon wrapped his arms around the other man. 

"Yes, Mal?" 

"You talk a lot more when you're bossy." 

"Sorry." Simon looked down at Mal's head, and kissed the part in his hair gently. "I guess I'll have to try to watch that." 

Mal's voice was muffled against his skin. "I kinda liked it. You should do it more often." 

Amused, Simon asked, "What? Be bossy or talk more?" 

"Well both, actually." Mal paused, considering, looking up just a bit. "But just in bed. Wouldn't do for you to be bossing me around on the deck." 

"I don't know, Mal, I think I've figured out how to run the ship now. I'll keep you around, though. For the sex, at least." Mal started in panic, but calmed down when he saw the laughter in Simon's eyes. 

As he punched Simon in the arm, he muttered, " _Qingshaui hou chi chunren_..." before settling down again. 

"Ow!" Laughing, Simon rubbed the sore spot. "Stop punching me, Mal." Simon wiggled a bit to get them both comfortable again. "Go to sleep." 

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